_openpost.exe

[cruciverbalist]

Choose your own adventure

How to play_
comment with character & scenario (post or suggestion)

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[cruciverbalist]

He mused quietly to himself when she did so. Adler. Apt a last name, he thought. Sarcasm aside, he refines himself to some sort of maturity with a slight bow of his head and walks further inward.

"Of course, Miss Adler."

[riding_crop]

"Now, Mister Holmes, I thought today we'd see about some of the basics."

She says, heels clicking primly as she leads him onwards. They're bypassing the polite living room, going straight for her play space, which is soft red carpet and warm walls, burnished wood equipment.

[cruciverbalist]

Sherlock remains silent for the most part. He's more focused on detail. On her, the faint scent that surrounded her, the impeccable cleanliness of the room. He wondered, for a faint moment, if the well cared wood was cared for by guests. She almost seemed the type to keep someone for a day, have them do labor during 'breaks'.

"If I may, 'basics' has a very wide range of meaning." A brow rose. And so, what did yours mean, or were he to find out?

[riding_crop]

She does, in fact. She has a large range of men who come to her for a little domestic play; a beautiful cabinet member who likes nothing more than to stand at her sink with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and wash her dishes, and he does wood polishing too, but she won't mention that just yet.

"It does, doesn't it? Please undress as far as you're comfortable."

Polite, failing utterly to expand.

[cruciverbalist]

Yes, he would have thought so. Little slaves who like to escape their high-pressure, high-demand, too-complicated lives for classic domestication. For a lovely woman, no less. One of sharp and refined taste.

Comfortable is another one of those wide ranges. To him, he had little to hide body wise. fingers slipped the buttons loose and let it all slide off. He even folded, lightly, in his hand. Mainly untarnished skin aside from the ink that splattered in places only seen by being so exposed. Although if one was curious enough there was certainly displays of his habits. Scars that wouldn't go away.

The only piece of clothing he failed to remove was a sock. one sock. Perhaps a message, a meaning, or perhaps Sherlock was just being Sherlock. Also known as, a brat. He certainly didn't break easy, not that this would be a test to that -- and he was submissive but not to be confused with 'easy to handle' or excessively obedient. He liked to play.

"Where would you have me put them, then?"

[riding_crop]

Irene's eyebrows lift in delight, and she picks up a cane, twirling it delicately between his fingertips.

"On the chair is fine, dear."

She'll take one foot, for the time being, until he chooses to reconsider.

"Though you're also welcome to pocket it. Sit wherever you'd like, let's have the sole."

[cruciverbalist]

He's managed to keep a straight face. Clear, calm, completely lacking of his own minor entertainment to do with this entire situation. It would fade soon upon keeping eye at that cane. Instead, he slides the haphazardly folded items onto an idle chair near the corner. He himself would far more prefer the chair with thick arms; something to grab.

Taking a seat, he permits the bare foot to her.

[riding_crop]

Irene slides to her knees behind him, and reaches to take his foot gently in her hands. Her touch begins as warm, exploring, thumb dragging a slow pattern up the sole. Almost massaging.

Except there's a pressure point just above the ball that her thumb finds, smartly. One that shoots right up the leg to the hip, will force a body flat if pressed hard enough.